It’s the Night Before New Year’s Eve and all through the house… there was a whole lot stirring cause frankly we’re always up to SOMETHING. I mean… the cat’s being pretty lazy, but Kristen and I are tapping away.
I spent the day recording Rowan. Percussion and beatings and it’s a hard lesson in just how out-of-practice I am in recording things OTHER than cello! Mic here, mic there, mic everywhere. Where the Hell is the mic I WANT? Use the mic I’ve GOT. Then remember where that mic is (in it’s case where it should be) – grab mic, do it again…
Despite how I make it sound, we got a lot done. Despite THAT some will get redone. Some will re-inform other recorded parts. Accelerating “It’s Okay” means I’ve got to re-record my guitar and vocals. I’m going to need to re-record the vocals on “Good Enough” because they’ve begun to sound shallow in comparison to everything else. “Chicken Wings” needs its final guitar and vocals. All these little pieces, and they all affect one another. I know the “right” way to record involves less organic-layering and more planning, but I find that the songs evolve so much over time, and this has been a project that’s been paused – inexcusably – for almost a year now. “It’s Okay” is just faster now. “No, It’s Me” has slowed down. There’s a guitar solo in “Good Enough” where once there was a percussion jam. Ideas shift and so do sounds. I’m not a solo artist.
But I’m excited.
A lot of 2022 felt like it was spent WAITING. 2020 and 2021 was spent reeling, learning, reeling again. 2022 has been this strange pseudo-recovery, pretending like we’re comfortable with the world again, and knowing we’ve got no choice but to leap back in or be left behind. I have less patience for some things, more experience in others. My body feels weaker. Spent. Like I’ve aged ten years in the last three. In 2023, crossing an invisible and frankly arbitrary line into the New Year, I need to own my Life again.
And as I sit, remixing and fiddling with files, realizing I’ve got to buckle down and actually record ME, not just others – there’s the reminder that the feeling that the world’s been on pause is a lie. It’s spinning out of control, racing past me, and even though every time I reach out to grab hold or slow it or simply feel the rush – even though every time I reach out my I feel my fingertips ripping, leaving red streaks along the surface – I need to simply bodycheck the universe and take the damage. Better to burn up on reentry than watch the world go by.